


Balls Deep in Nipton

by ChocoChipBiscuit



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: F/M, Oral Sex, Sex Education, Sexual Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-05
Updated: 2014-06-05
Packaged: 2018-02-03 13:17:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1746056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoChipBiscuit/pseuds/ChocoChipBiscuit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The inept Vulpes Inculta goes deep undercover in Nipton.</p><p>BALLS DEEP.</p><p>And has his world rocked by one of Nipton's ladies of the boudoir.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Balls Deep in Nipton

Nipton is a vile cesspool, full of degenerates who can barely see past the bridge of their nose, frittering away all the promises of tomorrow for the fleeting pleasures of today. A city of whores; with his own eyes he has seen the filthy criminal escapees known as the ‘Powder Gangers’ be serviced by the town, then skulk away as the sun crosses the sky to make way for the swaggering soldiers of the NCR. Then once the dawn creeps across the sands, the soldiers leave to allow the Powder Gangers their fill of debauchery.

Burning this city will be a pleasure.

But to destroy the city—to wreck the very people and send a message of just what the Legion can do—would require far more than whole-sale slaughter. A way to provoke not only anger, but _thought_. Messages hidden in the act, hinting at consequences for those who gamble with—

The so-called ‘mayor’ of this rancid pit interrupts with a yellowing smile and too-jaunty elbow to the ribs. “Hello there, stranger! Why, I noticed you been skulking around, but no fear! Ol’ John Steyn is the friendliest man in Nipton, and if you’re too shy to speak up, why, I can help with that! My girls don’t bite—unless you pay, of course!—and I can always introduce you…”

Horrified realization dawns. This man—this wretched, duplicitous piece of offal—thinks he is here to purchase the whores’ services.

And worse— _he thinks him incapable of asking for himself_.

Quickly, he interrupts the man’s torrent of verbage.

“I thank you for your concerns, but they are ill-placed. I am content to look and bide my time.”

“Well, mister…” the man’s voice trails ingratiatingly, and with a sigh, the Frumentarius realizes he must supply a pseudonym.

“Mr Fox will suffice.”

“What can this patch of paradise offer you then? A gentleman like yourself surely needs to find ways to blow off steam. We have booze, we have girls, we have boys if you’d prefer—“

Damn. At this point, failing to partake of any of the dubious attractions of this town will only arouse more suspicions. Vulpes makes a few rapid calculations. Alcohol may cloud his judgment, and he might be able to milk some more information out of one of the prostitutes…

Feigning embarrassment, he coughs. “Actually… there was that rather striking young lady with the long dark hair...”

“Excellent choice,” Steyn leers, smacking his lips in appreciation. “That there’s Orchid, a rare blossom indeed. I’ll take payment up front, if you don’t mind.”

It has been a while since he made use of the Legion comfort women, and Vulpes finds his blood quickening as he hands over the caps. Even if he hadn’t been intending to partake of Nipton’s services, at least he can sate his needs.

Orchid smiles at their arrival, dimples flashing, and her skin gleams like ivory brushed with honey. Vulpes had chosen her because she looks like the cleanest of the lot, hair gleaming and face practically glowing with health. Even her dress is remarkably clean, a froth of white lace and ribbons that stops just shy of her knees, evocative of both innocence and an abbreviated prewar wedding gown. Her dainty low-heeled shoes look as if they have been plucked from a prewar catalogue, too pristine to have ever gone traipsing the Wastes. Brown eyes twinkle with good humor—or at least the impression of such—and her teeth flash white like pearls as she murmurs, “Hello there, handsome. Feeling lonely?”

“Our Mr Fox has been feeling _mighty_ lonely, Orchid. And just a bit too shy to say hello, so I’d be much obliged if you take care of him.”

Her hand is warm in his as she gently leads him to a bedroom. Cupping her hand to his cheek, she giggles as if actually looking forward to her task. “Shy, hm? Looking for the girlfriend experience?”

Unsure of what she means, Vulpes nods.

“Well, handsome, let’s start with kissing.”

She pushes him against the door, lips brushing his jaw before lighting on his mouth, soft as a butterfly. Vulpes parts his lips, tongue thrusting to meet hers, but she only laughs, slapping his shoulder playfully.

“No, don’t slobber on me!” Her immediate correction—pressing her body against his so he can feel the swell of her breasts, twining her arm about his neck and pulling him down as she kisses him fully, deeply, madly—takes any sting out of the criticism, and Vulpes gives a surprised squeak in the back of his throat. Orchid giggles again, genuine pleasure at taking him by surprise, and her lashes tickle against his cheek as she tilts her head, gently nibbling his lower lip before moving up again as if to devour him with kisses.

Vulpes stands ram-rod straight, hands down by his sides as this remarkable woman takes the lead. Shocked that this profligate—that this _woman_ —can be so bold, so wanton in pursuit of not just his, but _her own_ pleasure. Bedding slaves has always been a matter of expediency, the woman little more than a vessel for his lust. While never deliberately cruel, he had never thought of pursuing pleasure beyond the needs of the moment. Hesitantly, he starts responding to her affections, trying to respond with scattered pecks. Her nose, her mouth, and with a perverse delight, her dimples—all fall under his lips, and she lets out a soft moan, clutching him close.

“Mm, much better. C’mon, don’t be afraid to put your arms on me,” she coaxes, side-swept bangs falling across her eyes and casting her glittering eyes in shadow.

He hates how his hands tremble as he raises them, resting one on the curve of her hip and the other on the back of her neck. Purring, she rolls her shoulders back… and then their noses bump, him squishing hers flat as she gives a startled ‘gack’ noise.

“Too close, hon! Careful!”

Stammering, he starts to apologize—and recognizes that he is acting worse than the rawest legionary, because he has _been_ with women before, but Orchid is something else entirely. She just chuckles, not letting the small blooper derail her as she guides him in stroking the back of her neck.

“Use your nails. Like this,” she murmurs, demonstrating as she lightly rakes the back of her hand across his scalp, twining up and gripping his hair. He hisses, bristling at the implicit ownership, and responds by pushing her towards the bed. But half-way there she manages to twist out of his grip, laughing as he bangs his shin against the mattress. At his muffled oath, she immediately wraps her arms around him in apology.

“Sorry hon, but that was going just a little too fast for me,” Orchid whispers in his ear, breath hot and stirring the fine hairs on his neck. “Please be gentle with your girlfriend.”

‘Girlfriend.’ Vulpes remembers now, he paid for the ‘girlfriend experience.’ He still has no idea what she means by that, but apparently going slowly and with more foreplay is part of it. And unlike any of the slave women… she had not seemed threatened by his use of force, instead turning it against him and with the brazenness to laugh it off. She might be a whore, but…

…but perhaps whores are not the same as slaves.

“I’m sorry,” he says, the words twisting strangely past his lips. Apologies normally taste like bitter ash, an admission of failure. But there is no defeat here, just a shiver of anticipation in this unfamiliar role.

“It’s okay.” She brushes her hair back, straddling his lap as she gently pushes him to the bed. Her thighs press against his sides, her body warm against his as she nuzzles his neck, nibbling and grazing her teeth along his flesh. Shivering, he tries to respond, skimming his hands over her legs and up the silky expanse of her thigh. Unfortunately, his hand gets caught in one of the folds of lace and he tugs futilely, trying to get free without ripping her skirt.

“Oh, _honey_ ,” she giggles, but the way she kisses his chest, sighing as her nose tickles against the sparse hairs covering his body, makes him feel less self-conscious about that fumble. “You ready to start taking clothes off?”

Swallowing, Vulpes tries to regain the upper hand. “Yes.” He takes a deep breath, placing his hands on her hips as he assumes the same cool, commanding tones that make his scouts snap to attention.  “Woman, on your knees. My cock demands attention.”

She blows a raspberry, cool air tickling his face, and bursts into peals of laughter. It echoes through the small room, doing nothing for his abrupt burn of shame. He _knows_ he does not look good while blushing, the red splotches forming across his cheeks and the back of his neck. Even his ears turn crimson as he sputters for words.

“Honey, _you_ get on _your_ knees. My pussy demands attention.” A playful slap on his shoulder follows her order before she swings her legs off his lap, pulling her skirt up to display pink panties. She hooks one finger under the band, wriggling them off her hips and letting them fall to her ankles. Stepping out of the discarded underwear, she leans back on the bed with her legs spread invitingly. Her sex is moist and glistening, and when she places her hands on each thigh, fingers drawing her lips apart, she looks like a flower opening before his gaze.

“An orchid,” he whispers, mesmerized. He had never seen a woman’s cunt in such detail before, never traced the curves of the labia and the inner folds of her pussy or looked at the way the soft curls of her pubic hair frame everything like a work of art.

She grins, biting her lower lip in the most endearing fashion. “That’s what they call me, hon. Why don’t you try drinking the nectar?”

Vulpes slides off the bed, kneeling obediently between her knees and kissing her thigh, savoring the scent of her musk and the silken texture of her body. She smells faintly of flowers, some sweet perfume entwined about her form like the very breath of heaven. Hesitantly, thinking about penetration and how very much he’d like to sheathe his cock in her, he tries to perform oral sex.

“Wait, wait!” she laughs, leaning back and squirming away from his tongue. “No, the tongue doesn’t go _inside_! Around! Use broad strokes, sweet and gentle. Try tracing a circle around my clit.” She sucks her finger, using her other hand to keep her lips spread.

“What’s the clit?” he asks in confusion, blushing mottled red as she chuckles at his ignorance.

Tapping her finger to a tiny bud of flesh, she shivers. “This, hon.” She smiles coyly, biting her lip. Watching her glistening finger trace across the pink of her cunt, he nods.

“Then, when I’m really excited…” Her voice trails off as she lets out a low moan, and his pulse races in anticipation as her slender finger homes in on that mysterious ‘clit.’ Rapidly flicking back and forth, she sighs as her back arches.

“I understand,” he says hoarsely, his erection straining against his pants. But somehow, pleasing Orchid has gained priority. Wounded pride dictates that he give her the pleasure she is obviously accustomed to receiving. And then there’s Orchid herself, smiling and glowing like the Mojave moon. Watching her is exciting, but he impatiently wants to make her moan for _him_ , not for her own fingers. He leans in, licking his lips and trying again.

She lets out a soft sigh of appreciation, wriggling close and lifting her knees over his shoulders. His hands brace against her thighs, squeezing as he flicks his tongue out. Flattening his tongue, he works in broad strokes, lapping a circular path about the slippery folds of her pussy.

“Oh yeah, that’s more like it…” Her voice trails off as she twists her hand back into his hair, pulling just slightly to guide his mouth. Fleetingly, he thinks he’ll regret shaving his head once he goes back to wearing his dog’s head hat for the attack on Nipton. But it will grow back between missions, and then…

Shocked, he realizes he is planning on _keeping_ this woman.

“Hey, why did you stop?” she complains, squeezing his cheeks between her thighs. Grinning, he goes back to eating her out, thinking of how lovely she’d look with a slave collar on her. A delicate pleasure slave for his personal use, not one of the camp followers for any man to take at a whim. He will give her in more of these lovely dresses, place a beautiful collar of polished silver about her slender neck, and keep her warm with rich furs when he cannot be there to personally keep the night chill off her form.

As her moans pick up, sex quivering under his tongue, he dares to slip a finger inside her. She’s wet and slick, silky to the touch as he attempts a slow thrust, sucking at her clit with soft lips. Orchid gasps, whispering sweet, frantic endearments as her excitement builds. And this too is novel, her moans a warm symphony as he plays her like an instrument, each stroke and flick of his tongue eliciting another note of delight.

“Oh, I’m _coming_ …” she groans, hair fanned against the bed and skirt pooled about her waist, almost an hourglass of womanly shape as she cries out. Vulpes pauses, afraid he’s hurt her, but her impatient “Hey, why did you _stop_?” quickly dispels that illusion and he returns to pleasuring her, feeling her thighs quiver and her clit throb as she climaxes, thighs clenching tightly around his head. He is too filled with pride to care about the pressure, and continues until she gasps, “Stop. That’s enough. C’mon, let’s get your clothes off, hon.”

He is only too eager to obey, almost ripping the buttons off his shirt in his haste to get undressed. Her hands roam over the wall of his chest, stroking down to the hard muscles of his belly and sliding to his belt, unfastening him with smooth, practiced movements. He tries to respond in kind, lifting her dress, but only manages to get his limbs tangled in hers. Awkwardly, he tries to stand up, twisting around so he can remove his trousers, but instead feels the sick thunk of his elbow striking flesh.

“ _Ow!_ ” she cries, clasping one hand over her eye.

“I’m sorry!” he stammers, heart in his throat as he cups her head. She winces, leaning back and forcing a smile to her face.

“Hey, no worries honey. Accidents happen. But how about I strip down and you take your clothes off, all right? Then we can fool around, see what comes up.”  Her smile broadens and she licks her lips, leaving no doubt as to the double meaning.

Vulpes nods with a jerk of his head, fumbling with his pants and hissing as the cloth catches on his shin. Then he kicks it aside, leaving it rumpled on the floor. Normally he’d fold it and set it aside, as meticulously arranged as everything else in his life, but he _wants_ this woman. The rustle of lace over flesh is maddening and erotic, and he turns back to hungrily watch Orchid as she pulls the dress over her head, laying it over a bedpost and smiling coyly. Her hair falls forward, obscuring her face in a scented cloud. Her bra matches the discarded panties, a delicate pastel pink with a tiny little bow set in the center. A small jade bead, barely larger than a fingernail, sits prettily between her breasts and nearly lost in the swell of her cleavage.

She lays propped on her elbows, peeking up at him through her hair and nibbling her pinky. Playfully kicking her feet against the bed, she murmurs, “Ooooh. What a thick cock my new boyfriend has. How about you give me a taste, honey?”

His boxers are still around his knees, and he nearly trips in his eagerness to present his dick to her. Chuckling, she cups his balls, giving a gentle squeeze before sliding her hand down his thigh and urging him to kick off his underwear. Then she cups one hand around the base of his shaft, gently tugging to pull him closer as the other hand goes back to playing with his balls, running her palm against the fine hairs coating his sack. It tickles, and Vulpes cannot restrain a most unmanly giggle, which turns into a pained hiccup when he attempts to swallow it.

“Don’t like that, hon? Why don’t you tell me what you like?” she murmurs, warm breath on his cock as she delicately licks the tip of his penis.

He shivers, thumping his fist against his chest in an effort to stifle more hiccups. When he speaks, he tries to assume his usual cool tones. “Woman, suck my—“

Her tongue swirls about his shaft, running over the delicate triangle of his frenulum, and she glares up sternly.

“—cock, please?” he amends, voice cracking like a boy going through puberty.

Eyes crinkling, she wraps her lips about him, tongue lapping over the throbbing vein below his shaft as she slowly rocks back and forth. Even with less than half his dick in her mouth, Vulpes quickly decides this must be the best blowjob he’s received. She uses light suction and gentle bobbing, with gentle flicks of her tongue as her hand twists over the base of his shaft, creating the welcome illusion of much more of him being in her mouth. And even the other hand stays busy, no longer toying with his balls but now running over his thigh, squeezing his hip and giving her an anchor.

“Ahn…” he moans, biting his lip and trying not to release any more embarrassing noises. But it’s hard, especially when she starts picking up speed and her breath stirs against his pubic hair… Vulpes groans, then tries to growl, thrusting forward in an attempt to fuck her throat.

Unfortunately, Orchid’s startled reaction is to bite down.

“ _Shit!”_ she exclaims, throwing herself back in horror.

Vulpes’ profanity is much less restrained, and he doubles over on himself, erection wilting.

“Honey, I’m so sorry!” It’s Orchid’s turn to apologize profusely, pulling him to the bed and covering him in kisses. He flinches when her mouth goes down to his cock again, but eventually lies back, deciding this isn’t so bad. She hadn’t _chomped_ so much as nipped, and at least now they’re even for his elbow in her eye. Alternating between licks and kisses, careful not to so much as graze a tooth against his tender flesh, she manages to revive his erection.

“Orchid, could we…. I mean, may we fuck? Now?” he asks, unconsciously twisting one fist into the sheets.

She nods, bestowing one last kiss on the base of his shaft, and sits up. Rolling one shoulder back, she turns to present him her back. “Will honey unfasten my bra strap?”

Vulpes feels his mouth turn dry, but tries not to show his sudden unease. If callow teenage profligates can master this task, surely so can he. Reaching with both hands, he tries pulling the straps apart but only succeeds in digging them into her flesh. She hisses, curling away, and desperate to dispel the impression that he’s but a bumbling fool, Vulpes tries again, twisting the material in his grip.

Oh, cruel construction of hooks and loops! Was there ever a better mousetrap? Was there ever a more tempting bait? Was there ever a mouse more forlorn than the sweating Frumentarius? He squirms and wriggles and growls in frustration as somehow—and he’s not entirely sure how that happened!—he manages to get his wrist caught under the band. When he finally pulls free, the elastic snaps back, stinging Orchid’s skin with an audible twang.

“Augh!”

Vulpes has never been aroused by the sound of a woman in pain—that had always been Lanius’ taste—and this is no exception. He promptly kisses the reddened flesh, frantically licking and nuzzling in an effort to ease the sting.

“Honey, how about… how about I take my bra off?” she says carefully, reaching back with one hand and deftly undoing the fiendish contraption. “You can always practice later.”

Pride stinging, he just nods, consoling himself with the fact she said ‘later.’ She is not planning on kicking him out of bed, even though he must surely be the most inept client she’s ever had.

“All right, let’s get ready—hey!” she protests, drawing her knees together as he attempts to push her into the bed. “Not without a condom, honey! I know they’re not fun, but we gotta be safe!” Rolling onto her belly, she then elbow-crawls her way to a small dresser, removing a foil square. Vulpes squints suspiciously at the prewar prophylactic, and his horror does not abate when she unwraps it. That strange rubber sheath—it’s supposed to go on his cock?

Apparently it is.

He snatches the object from her hand, suddenly mortified at the idea of her trussing him up like… like this is some sort of obscene glove. He ignores her cautious, “Hey, wait—“ and tries squeezing the rubber on each side of its circular opening, pulling apart. But that only manages to stretch it into a thin line, impossible to slide his cock into. He tries anyway, growling in frustration as his dick slides to one side, then the other.

“No, honey.” She slaps his hand lightly, holding her other hand out expectantly. Realizing further protest is futile, he drops it into her palm. Patiently, she demonstrates how to apply the condom, squeezing the tip and twisting slightly as she rolls it over his cock. It rests snugly just shy of his balls, and she murmurs, “Now, you’ll want to keep a hand there when you pull out, after. Just to make sure it doesn’t slip off.”

He consoles himself with the thought that at least she’s being safe. When she’s _his_ woman, he won’t have to worry about possible diseases or pregnancy from a previous client.

Leaning back on her elbows, she parts her thighs for him, letting him glimpse the soft pink of her ‘orchid’ once more. The jade pendant dangles between her breasts, gleaming in contrast to the smooth cream of her skin.

“C’mon, honey,” she whispers throatily, beckoning him with a crook of her finger.

No second invitation is necessary. He places his left hand by her shoulder, supporting himself on his knees and palm as his other hand—still gripping the base of the condom, per her instructions—guides himself to her sweet cunt. Orchid gasps, biting her lip, and whispers, “Slow, honey. Be gentle with me.”

So he takes it slow, gently bumping himself against the lips of her sex and easing himself in. She moans softly, breasts quivering, and grips his shoulder. Heartened by her response, he slides in a little further, relishing her wet heat. He would still prefer to be fucking her without the condom, but this is still so _good_. She sighs beneath him, wrapping her legs about his hips and pulling him in as they start easing into a rhythm. It’s still a little awkward, him going just a bit too deep and eliciting a pained “Careful,” but she grinds with him, moving her hips in a slow circle and lightly drumming her heels against his ass to guide him into her preferred pattern.

“Mmyeah…” Her soft moan drives Vulpes wild, and he feels a slow grin stretch across his face. Deciding this must mean he’s doing _something_ right, he starts thrusting vigorously, rocking himself on his hands and, in his enthusiasm, listing to the side. His head thumps the wall with a hard _thwack!_

“ _Ouch!”_ he screams, falling onto his elbows and nearly squashing poor Orchid beneath him as stars dance before his eyes.

“Baby, how about we try spooning instead?” she suggests, kissing his chin and gently rubbing his head. His ego is more bruised than his skull, so he nods dejectedly. Remembering to grip the condom as he withdraws, he rolls to the side so his back faces the wall and Orchid nestles against him, her head resting perfectly on his outstretched arm as if they were designed for one another. She lifts her leg slightly to allow him easier access and they join together once more. His dick makes a wet squelch as he slides in, and he cringes in embarrassment.

Reading the tension of his arm hooked over her shoulder, she chuckles warmly. “Hey, it happens. Just calm down, hon. All that matters is _you_ and _me_.” She cups one hand over his, guiding him to her breast. He squeezes firmly, mauling at her like a life-line.

She shakes her head. “Nnno. Too hard. Gentle. Like… like you’re squeezing a peach.”

Hesitantly, he adjusts his grip, delicately gripping with just the tips of his fingers. A soft sigh is his reward, and encouraged, he rubs his thumb over her nipple. She moans, murmuring, “Pinch them just a little, like that… oh yeah…” He rolls her nipple between thumb and forefinger, delighting in the way she gasps against him. Her hand works down, grazing over the soft swell of her belly before she starts nudging her clit.

“Shouldn’t I be doing that?” he asks uncertainly, feeling vaguely inadequate.

Her warm response of “You _could_ , but I’d rather you keep playing with my breasts,” brings joy to his heart. Feeling her tense and moan against him, Vulpes continues thrusting gently, relaxing and enjoying the feel of her. Warm, wet, eager and gentle in equal measures, he thinks… he thinks…

“Unf!” he grunts urbanely, the realization coming too late. His balls tighten, slapping against Orchid’s ass as he twitches uncontrollably, his semen spattering the walls of the condom. Panicking, trying to prolong the experience for Orchid—Orchid! Had she orgasmed? He wanted her to feel good too!—he tries drawing back, but ends up smacking his hips against her, gripping her shoulder and shoving her off the bed. She tumbles to the floor, one leg still half on the bed as she hits the ground with a loud _THUMP!_

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” he babbles, rolling to the edge of the bed and trying to pull her back. But as he dangles his body over the edge, the cheap wooden frame snaps, so he tumbles onto her in an ungainly tangle of limbs. Utterly mortified and panicking, he barely catches himself on one hand and flails his other arm in the air in an effort to keep from smacking her face again. His knees hit the floor hard enough to bruise.

She laughs uncontrollably, hair falling over her face and one hand slapping the dingy carpet as her entire body shakes.

“Honey, honey… look, it’s _okay_!” She waves his hand away, wriggling free and lying flat on the ground while her shoulders heave. “Look, this was… uh, _memorable_. Don’t worry, hon. Did you have a good time?”

“Yes,” he says dejectedly.

“And is the condom still on?” After he frantically checks and nods, she commands, “Okay, pull it off. Grip the tip as you do so, and we can just toss it.”

He obeys meekly, finally daring to ask, “But what about you?”

“Believe me, I’ll be thinking about this magical evening for _years_ to come.” She sounds so warm and affectionate he does not even dare to think about any other possible meanings. Finally taking pity on him, she sits up, chuckling, “Would you like to cuddle?” At his mumbled “yes please,” she pulls the sheets from the bed to make an impromptu nest for them. She presses him down, nuzzling close and resting her head on his shoulder as he sprawls on his back.

He holds her like a precious object, hardly daring to disturb the beauty of the moment with him still flush from orgasm and her… well, her still sweet and laughing against him, her giggles like music. Even his sweaty back sticking to the sheets feels divine. His tongue feels strange and thick in his mouth, and he vaguely remembers that he’s supposed to try and get information out of this woman.

Rather than ask details about Nipton’s security or how they signal the Powder Gangers that the NCR troops have left, or anything that might actually be _useful_ for the planned razing of Nipton, he blurts:

“Your breasts are lovely.” Stuttering, he tries to salvage it. “I mean, your _tits_ are lovely.” Oh no, it’s getting worse. “I mean, your _pendant’s_ lovely. Where did you get it?” There, better. With any luck, she won’t even notice his stumbles.

Judging from her laughter, his luck failed. “My mother gave it to me, hon. Family trinket from before the war.” Her laughter is warm and inviting, without any of the scorn or derision he would have expected. Like earlier, she takes each awkward fumble and invites him closer, treating him like… like—

 _Oh_ , he realizes now. _This is the girlfriend experience_.

Even knowing he paid her for it fails to diminish his glow of contentment. While she may have faked it for her _other_ clients, he’s certain she must have felt a genuine connection with him. One that should be easy enough to foster once he claims ownership of her.

“So… ‘Mister Fox,’” Orchid says teasingly, tilting her head so he can see her eyes twinkle. “Is that your real name?”

He swallows, wondering if he was that obvious. “Erm… does it matter?”

“It’s okay if it’s not, hon. You just seemed so uncertain… you don’t have to be embarrassed, you know.” She presses a whisper-light kiss against the underside of his chin, and it tingles even after she withdraws. “It’s okay if ‘Mister Fox,’ isn’t your real name.”

Squeezing his arm about her shoulder, hand cupping her arm, he ventures, “Is Orchid your real name?”

Flippantly, she replies, “Does it matter?”

 _It matters for the woman I want to take as my own_ , he wants to argue, but that would reveal too much far too soon. Instead, he murmurs, “Your presence is a blessing in this benighted town.”

She smiles warmly, chuckling, “I’m glad you liked it, hon. Look me up if you’re ever in West Side.”

“West Side?” he asks, skin starting to crawl with an unwelcome realization.

“One of my old gal pals moved there. The money’s better, it’s close to the Strip, and easier to get more pretty dresses there. I might even get to change my name—no more of this ‘exotic Oriental flower’ bullshit that Steyn likes,” she whispers confidingly.

Vulpes is not sure whether to be horrified that she is leaving or elated that she is sharing her plans. He opts for a mumbled, “Well, if you’re not going to be ‘Orchid,’ who should I ask for?”

“I was thinking ‘Jade.’ Still pretty, less fetishized.” Her smile broadens, and she kisses the corner of his mouth. “If you want the girlfriend experience again though, Sylvia’s really good.”

“But I want _you_ ,” he pleads, cringing at how pathetic that sounds.

“Darling, this was fun. But you paid for a throw, and I think we both had a good time with that.” Sitting up, she reaches for her bra, bending slightly to let her breasts spill into the cups before fastening it. Then she stands, grabbing her panties and hopping into them. “Just look me up if you’re ever in West Side, honey.” The dress slides over her skin, lace and ruffles rippling back into place until she is once more the demure, sweet-faced young woman who caught his attention just outside. She steps into her shoes and blows him one last kiss before walking out the door.

Vulpes groans, clutching his head. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Nipton will still burn.

But… _after_ she leaves.

**Author's Note:**

> [Author's notes because I overthink things.](http://chocochipbiscuit.tumblr.com/post/88226981730/authors-notes-labels-hands-in-the-dark-and-balls)


End file.
